Precious
by xCrushx
Summary: The first time I saw him he sat alone on a bench. I didn’t think anything of it until I looked at his eyes. They were completely innocent. PG13-Mentions of rape, homelessness and some language. My version of one of the characters pasts.


Precious

By C-Chan (AKA Abyssinian Angel)

Author's Note: This is my version of one of the Weiss' characters pasts, written at 2 am with Shy babbling at my ear... I don't own Weiss Kruez or anything associated with it. 'Thief' belongs to Our Lady Peace. Please don't sue…^^' Now onto the story. Part One is in Mari's POV. 

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//I don't want to understand this horror  
There's a weight in your eyes that I can't admit  
Everybody ends up here in bottles  
But the nametags the last thing you wanted//

Safety is a word I have never known. To me the very thought of protection was a far off dream I would never completely reach. I never actually had a chance to think of it. I was too busy trying to find places to hide places he wouldn't look, immediately. 

Hiding as if I was weak. The most complex part is that I am not. Strength is the only thing I have left, the one thing he hasn't taken away. He took my dignity, my pride, my virginity, my _innocence._

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//As the world explodes we fall out of it  
But we can't let go because this  
Will not go away  
There's a house built out in space...//

The one person who might've understood me lies in the consecrated ground beneath me. The one with the oh-so-innocent eyes. So precious. The first time I saw him he sat alone on a bench. I didn't think anything of it until I looked at his eyes. 

They were completely innocent, dark and blue with bits of silver reflecting his soul. I brought him that night. My father was gone. He didn't offer his name and I didn't want to ask him such a personal question. Instead I asked, "How long have you been on the streets, precious?" that was the first time I called him Precious.

"Long, long time," he whispered before he fell asleep. I watched him sleep that first night. He whimpered in his sleep, fighting an invisible enemy. Every so often he would strike out or begin to cry. I pulled him into my arms and held him. He stopped fighting but continued to whimper. Over the next few months this became a ritual. It became that I couldn't sleep without hearing him breathing beside me.

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//I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head  
But I can be some courage at the side of your bed  
I don't know what's happening and I won't pretend  
But I can be your...//

And then my father came home.

I sent Precious out, telling him he'd be safer if he left and didn't look back. He believed me, dammit, he believed. That night I go no sleep. Even after my father left. I had never felt so alone.

The next morning, when I went to find him he was sleeping under my window, the cold winter winds whipping around his brown hair, "Precious?" I called out to him, "Precious, wake up," then I saw it, his innocent blue eyes, the ones that made me bring him home, were open. Glossy blue eyes accused me of what had happened.

"Well, what do we have here, Mari?" my father smiled as he walked up behind me, "He's a little young for you."

I pulled away from my father's grasp and pulled Precious into my arms. I stood and carried him towards the hospital ignoring my father's cries of, "You're too late, Mari." It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name.

"What's his name?" the nurse asked me when we walked in, his cold body pried from my grasp and place on a stretcher.

I stared at her for a moment. I didn't know, "Precious," I said.

"No, his real name." The nurse gave me a heartbroken smile.

"Naoe Nagi," I said quickly.

"And your name?" she said as she lead me towards the waiting room.

"Naoe Mari," I said as I sat down. The hospital was so white and dreary. It was a horrible place for Precious to die.

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//Someone help us understand who ordered  
This disgusting arrangement with time and the end  
I don't want to hear who walked on water  
Because the hallways are empty and the clock ticks//

I saw a doctor come to the front of the room and say, "The little boy, what was his name?"

"Nagi Naoe," The nurse looked at me quickly.

I got up and followed the doctor to the room where Precious laid silently.

"Nagi Naoe, proclaimed dead at 6:34, Tuesday March the Second, 1983." The doctor pulled the sheet over his head. The last thing I remember seeing of Precious were his empty, broken, accusing blue eyes.

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//I can't see that thief that lives inside of your head  
But I can be some courage at the side of your bed  
I don't know what's happening and I won't pretend  
But I can be your...//

"Hey, Precious," I smiled down at his grave, weeks later, "I know I never came to visit before, it was too hard. I left him, you know? I found out that I'm going to have a baby. It's his of course. I'm going to call him Nagi, Precious, Nagi Naoe because that's what I called you," I placed a small white rose on top of the tombstone and walked away slowly, forgetting the six-year-old boy I had lost and thinking of the one I was going to have.

~Owari

TBC in Walk Away. Review pls.


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